CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE Chad

After my third honk, Cole opened his front door, stretching and yawning, wearing only boxers. My heart skipped a beat and my dick reminded me it'd been a while since any attention was paid to it.

"Howdy, sleepyhead," I said, jumping out of my Jeep. "Put some trunks on and get your lazy butt out here."

He yawned again. I'd definitely woken him. "What for?" he asked, rearranging some fairly large morning wood in his boxers.

"You and I are detailing our fleets today," I said.

"You call your one Jeep a fleet?" he quipped. "Besides, I've never washed a car before," he replied. "Let alone detailed one. Whatever that even means."

"Great! Today is the day you learn, my friend," I stated, pulling my vintage Nirvana T-shirt over my head and tossing it into my Jeep. I crossed my arms while his eyes devoured me. I knew he found me attractive. Hell, I found him the same way. "Chop-chop, mister," I ordered.

"I need to brush my teeth," he said. "And what time is it, by the way?"

"It's nine," I said. "I've been up since six, and you don't need to brush your teeth. This ain't no job interview. I'm the boss and you've got exactly five minutes to report to duty."

Cole stepped back into his house and slammed the door. Maybe my surprise visit wasn't going over as well as I'd hoped. I wanted to get to know him better and hoped we could bond over washing cars. One of my favorite tasks. He'd been on my mind for days and as hard as I resisted imagining anything between us, my brain or my heart—I wasn't sure which—wouldn't let my imagination cease running wild with thoughts of him.

My thoughts weren't innocent either. I wondered what he was like sexually. Was he dominant? Was he passive? What was his sexual experience? And, of course, what was his naked body like under all those expensive clothes? And his cock, of course.

I wasn't ready for love, but I was certainly willing to participate in some casual sex, and Cole seemed like the guy I'd like to experience it with. He seemed proper, though. Almost, and I hate to use this term, buttoned-up. Maybe even uptight. Was he able to have casual sex? Just two horny and single guys celebrating their physical beings? I wanted marriage. I knew that. But I was twenty-two and had needs. Who better than to consider fulfilling those needs than my hunky new neighbor?

I'd imagined coming over, surprising him, unloading all of my detailing equipment, and that he'd be thrilled by my unannounced visit. Now I was standing in his front drive alone and wondering if he'd come back out of his house. My feelings were quasi-hurt, too. Was I missing something? Had I imagined we were getting closer and that I could pull off a surprise visit? I was growing fonder of him by the day. Granted, I was being cautious not to rush or force any feelings about how I felt, and I hoped he would understand my process and allow each of us to take our time.

He'd been dumped more than two years ago. Maybe he'd had sex since then. I'd been dumped more than six months ago. I'd definitely not had sex since then. In my opinion, we'd both been single for a reasonable amount of time. Perhaps we should pursue something, but yet, I wasn't getting a message that he really saw me that way. He spoke the words, but his actions didn't support the verbal memorandum. Like the time we'd met at the beach when I'd joined him in his home and made dinner for us, he'd been pretty vocal about wanting more than a friendship. But ever since, not many clues as to what those words meant.

True, he had asked me to get to know him, to spend time with him. That was three weeks ago, and nothing had gone further than casual hanging out ever since. I couldn't read him and I was confused by how he felt about me. Was I a friend? Could we be fuck buddies?

The door suddenly opened, and Cole stepped out. Thankfully, I held my jaw in place. I felt like my chin had hit the gravel before I swallowed hard. He had tight swim trunks on that barely held his bulge. They were short. Very short.

His thigh muscles stood out like his full-time job was leg squats. A narrow waist and broad shoulders framed his stunning abs and indecent swim trunks. He was flat-out ripped. I hadn't seen him shirtless, let alone in a bathing suit clearly designed for a White Party in Palm Springs, but this man was in shape. How he'd managed to keep this level of a gym physique hidden in all his stylish clothes was a mystery.

He made his way down the stairs and toward me. I licked my lips to verify my tongue was still in my mouth. "I'll need sunblock on my back and shoulders if we're going to be out here in this sun," he said, tossing me a tube of suntan cream. Surprisingly, because my eyes were glued to his body, I somehow managed to catch the lotion.

He turned around just in time for me to hide an erection. My board shorts were on the baggy side, but I still filled them out when erect. I swallowed hard at the sight of his back. He had a huge sculpted back. His spine was a carved-out valley from his neck to the crack of his ass, dividing two mounds of muscles right in front of my horny eyes.

"How much?" I mumbled, allowing my eyes to try peeking into where his spine disappeared into his trunks.

His ass was athletic, beefy, and round, fighting to break out of the swim trunks currently inches from me. I had no idea how I'd missed the finer details of this man. He'd always been well-dressed and styled to perfection, but this was something completely different. This was animalistic. How had I not noticed the beefcake under the polish?

Today his black hair was mussed, and he had a thick five o'clock shadow. He'd never looked more desirable. If this was how he woke up in the morning, set the alarm clock because I'm staying the night.

"Just the upper back and shoulders please," he said, answering my question. "Then I'll do you."

I wish you'd do me."I'm good," I said, squirting lotion onto my hand. "A summer on the water and I'm past sunburns."

I started at the nape of his neck and across his upper back, careful to apply plenty on the tops of his shoulders for extra protection. After that, I made my way down his spine and pushed the lotion out of the deep groove of his spine and across his broad back. I imagined holding onto this same back as he made love to me, overpowering me with his strength as I lay underneath him.

"That's good, Chad," he said, annoyingly waking me from my sexual frustration.

I was fully aroused by him. The reality of what was happening to me filled my brain with excitement. I was absolutely attracted to Cole. My initial question was answered. I wanted to be more than his friend. But what exactly could that be?

We barely knew one another, and I'd recently ended a relationship with someone I'd viewed as perfect for me. Was it my fault that I wasn't perfect for Clint?

Also, was I simply horny? That would make sense by the reaction I had at seeing his sexiness on full display when he came to the door after I honked. I'd been fantasizing nonstop, but the reality was even better than the dream. Why not enjoy each other's bodies? There's no shame in that arrangement, is there? We were two adults and if sex was acceptable to us both, then why not partake?

Of course, one problematic reason not to partake in sex would be that I already knew I was developing an emotional connection to him as well, and for me, that usually preceded love.

He turned to face me. "Let me put some on you," he said, grabbing the lotion from me.

"That's okay. I'm good."

He ignored me and grabbed my arms, turning me around, my back to him. "Why are you cold in this heat?" he asked, running his hands over my arms.

"Goosebumps," I admitted, hugging myself tightly and tremoring. "I'm… you're… I… well, you are…"

"I'm what?" he asked, inching forward, his pecs pressing against my back.

"You're making me nervous," I confessed. "I didn't expect to have this reaction to seeing you so… so… undressed."

Cole remained still and silent. I could hear him breathing behind me, but nothing was said. After thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence, he spoke. "Can you explain what it is you're feeling?" he asked softly, his fingers still lingering on the backs of my arms.

I self-consciously moved my hands to my side, slowly releasing my self-hug and a long-held breath. My goosebumps only grew more prevalent. After more nervous tremors, I moved my hands behind me, searching for him, feeling for his touch.

"I felt like I wanted to experience you," I admitted. "Overwhelmed by seeing you nearly naked, actually, and then there's this visceral need to be held in your arms."

"Is that all?" he asked, securing my hands.

"Yes, I think so," I said. "For now, anyway," I added.

"Turn around, Chad," he instructed, releasing my hands. I faced him, my chin to my chest as I stared at the ground. I felt small next to him, embarrassed at being vulnerable after admitting my physical response to him. He lifted my chin, and we locked eyes. "Are you afraid of me?"

I nodded. "A little," I admitted. "Mostly because I'm not sure I'm ready to feel this way," I whispered, moving a hand to his chest. He trembled from my touch. "I'll probably mess it up."

"Not as quickly as I will."

I met his gaze, and we studied each other's eyes; his deep blue, and mine sky blue. I'd seen a lot of pain in his prior to this moment, but today the pain appeared eased somehow. My hand remained on his chest as we stood in the morning sun in the middle of his expansive driveway.

"I came over for an excuse to spend time with you today," I said softly. "You've been on my mind a great deal lately, to tell you the truth," I added.

"Then how about we do just that?" he suggested. "No pressure. Just two people hanging out. We're adults. There's no reason not to see where these feelings you mentioned take us."

"Two friends?" I asked, unsure of how I wanted him to answer.

"I'd like that," he began. "But like I've said before, I'd like a chance at something more with you, Chad."

"Me too," I acknowledged. "What about the part where we'll both mess it up?"

"Good point," he agreed. "But what if we don't?"

"Well, there is that. And we could keep things casual, right? No pressure, no labels?" I asked.

"If that's what you require, then of course," he agreed.

A wall that had been constructed around us, perhaps one both of us had built, began to crumble. Me seeing him as simply another über-wealthy New Yorker was slipping to the wayside. Was he seeing me as more than a head-in-the-clouds dreamer?

"Do friends kiss?" I asked.

"Do they kiss like friends?" he inquired. "Like on the cheek? Or something in between friends?"

"Shall we see?" I asked, tilting my head back. "Maybe we could try and then we cou–"

He cut me off mid-sentence and came down on my lips. He had brushed his teeth, sneaky fella, and his still-minty lips collided with my mine. He instinctively pulled me closer as one hand rested just above my butt on the small of my back, the other maneuvering the back of my head as he led the way. Bonus points for taking control. My weakness.

We kissed slowly at first as we discovered our limits in this first-kiss dance. Gently, he moved his lips across mine, nipping and exploring easily with his tongue, inviting, but not invading, my willingness to open wider. I moved my hands around to the back of his neck as he positioned both of his hands on my hips, lifting me slightly to meet him.

His strength was obvious to look at, but to be held in it, and manipulated by it, was a major turn-on for me. We fit, and fitting well during a first kiss is a sure green light in my book. With gentle persuasion, he parted my lips, and our tongues met in a fiery combat of passion. The analogy of a green light to move forward was replaced with a pistol at the starting blocks of a race for love. I was locked and loaded after one kiss with this man.

I knew very little about him. Why did he move here? What did he leave behind? Where was he going? Definitely things to understand better, but one matter of the heart had been decided. I wanted to move forward with him as more than his friend. And if all that was, was as a sexual partner, that could work. I'd never had a relationship like that, a fuck buddy as it were, but why not?

Our lips parted, but we remained glued to each other. He smiled and then touched his lips. "Wow," he stated.

"You too?" I asked.

He nodded and his eyes widened. "Maybe I'm not so focused on the whole friend thing after all?"

"Yeah? Like, if it happens, it happens," I joked.

"I heard friendship is overrated," he said, moving loose bangs from one of my eyes. "But something tells me you'd make a great friend, too."

"I have an idea," I began, turning to my Jeep. "How about we wash our rigs first, and then try this whole kissing thing again? You know, just to make sure."

"Rigs?" he asked, squeezing my biceps. "Are you one of those tough-talkin' boys?"

"Well," I began. "I tend to like my men tough, even the city-slickers like you. But as for me, I prefer to be the strength behind the man."

Cole grinned, and a devilish glint bounced off his eyes. "So you like a man to lead; is that what I'm hearing?" he teased.

I reached for his hand and relocated it to my erection. "As long as he knows where he's going, I do."

"What about the rigs?"

"What about them?" I asked, rubbing the front of his swim trunks and discovering I wasn't alone in the desire department. "Oh, and just so you know, I'm not afraid to lead the way when I want something really bad," I added.

"Duly noted," he replied, turning and heading for the house, doing what I'd asked and leading the way.